"What have you discovered?" Merrin said, feet padding softly atop the cold, silent floors. Marvelous. The vastness acted with an impressive humbling effect. Almost pressuring, as though the expanse was a mountainous space. He knew this feeling; humans had it in the face of the true enormity of something. Watching, awe-filled, smiling. Some even bowed.
Ashmen often bowed to peaks.
In the past, he heard from the Shamans that a few Ashmen had worshipped the mountains. Understandable. The pressure was a force; it made weakness in the minds of men…even lowlanders had some history in heretical worship. Perhaps this was a shared trait regardless of "People"
And then there was Este, regarding him with that impressive measuring gaze. The eyes of a scientist, as he had come to know them. They were odd pairs of ocular things—inward gaze despite the outward look. She was pondering while observing. Very few in reality knew the advantages of such eyes. Of course, he guessed casters inevitably developed said mannerisms. Just like how an animal could not help but evolve fangs, the same was so for Caster.
Furthermore, Merrin was sure of one thing. A horrifying fact with countless implications. All of the Orvalen…All were Casters.
No, the right word being "Contained"
Este's voice broke through the mentation. "Are you woolgathering?"
"Not now." He smiled in response.
Her eyes narrowed.
Merrin shrugged. "And yes, I asked a question."
Playing with the board in her grasp, a tired sound escaped her lips. "What do you want to know?"
"What you discovered." He added the tone to express the mild annoyance at the repetition. False annoyance, of course, but Merrin learned these creatures possessed a certain set of similar traits—hatred for the time wastage.
Este would attribute this to sameness.
She did, and smiled. "I call it the Aelmiren Armor." And just like that, her voice boomed within his thoughts, sending imaginary shudders through the depths of awareness. Regardless of the familiarity, the act remained alien. More so with the strange nature intrinsic to it…Often, he misinterpreted the internal voice as his…Many a mistakes were nearly made as a result.
"Did you hear me?" Este said, tilting, dark eyes staring deep into him. Unnerving.
He said, a pensive smile on his face. "Just considering the implications of your words."
"Nothing!" She snapped, almost defensive.
A dismissive wave. "Oh, not that." He said, "You called it an armor, I am simply wondering about the wearers…That's all."
"Orvalen!" She said, "What are you insinuating? That humans should be allowed to wear this, too?"
According to bits of history I know, I doubt that ever happened. Merrin said, "No such thing.."
"Yes." She regarded him. "They have more than enough. They have their Integument to survive."
"Very few of those."
"Just enough for them."
"I see," Merrin said simply, adding a question. "I doubt you will be so excited for something as simple as armor…What does it do?"
Again, she offered that measuring glance. Determining. She would question his loyalty within Caster mentation. Hopefully, this Alurian had gathered enough of the needed devotion. A necessity. As it was, Merrin was capitalizing on the past between the two.
She said, "Unlike the Human Integument, I took the main principle of self-repairment given to it by the Shaedoran, and remade it..What I have is a suit connected to a source. A oneness that would infinitely restore its capabilities when damaged…Even in battle."
Exactly what the whiteMother is. He noted. Is this idea what eventually creates the being called Orvane? He observed Este, who was doing much of the same, and said, "Is that what you have been casting…Attempting?" Pointed over her form, highlighting the stony, fissured lines--a thing he noticed during the first encounter.
She nodded. "Symbols contain their own type of corruption. The more you cast one, the more it casts you."
"And you finally made your breakthrough."
"Observables."
"Yes, they are."
She replied. "And for that, I have invited the Highlords to this place."
Merrin knew little of the truth of these people. Whoever they were, absolute might belonged to them. Similar to the Highnesses and brightCrowns, the Highlords ruled the Orvalen. Not via servility but a different method akin to a mixture of inheritance and voting, from which a highlord acquired sovereign power. Among other things, he sensed their acceptance was needed for certain 'technology'
"Today?" Merrin said, startled.
"Yes?" Este said with a questioning look. "Why wait?"
Well, I know you are to fail today, almost without doubt. The question is what happens after..What do I change to direct you on the desired path? More quickly, that is…Caster cogitation spun, and he said, "Do you know if they would come?"
"Why not?"
"Why not?" Merrin repeated.
She frowned. "I am a scientist of the highest fa'n—A Kandorian. That holds weight. They would come. They would judge."
No way to stop it, eh….Merrin sighed within. "What do you need?"
This also meant no dance for today….Mildly annoying.
The world contains but a single man and woman…I think that's how the divine views reality…Words of a wandering scholae.
Merrin overlooked the round chamber below. From the Gallery, a round viewing tier was barred with metal rods. Light spewing down from the high lamps. Electric lamps, different from the ones that buzzed with that incessantness. A glass in hand, dressed in a side-buttoned coat, a silver bodice wrapped around his chest. Rather tightly. Restrictive. Again, he pondered the usage of such clothes. The Ashman within would love for a chance to rip it to shreds.
But not now…
Now, he observed the totality of the group beneath. Like dots of blackness, swarming about the glossy earth, they chatted, laughed, and made merry. Still odd to observe, but he swallowed the resistance with a chug of the strange liquid. A transient fluid. It burned the heart
Poison!
Without a doubt, he accepted it so. Knew the opposite, but accepted it so. What it was, according to a few Attendants, was 'Alcohol', A thing obtained from the knowledge of humans. Funny, really, that these mighty creatures remained bound to the 'gifts of humanity'
This, of course, annoyed many.
He saw it in their actions. Each sip elicited a frown, then a smile, an exhale. And the pattern continued. What the Alcohol was, Merrin knew nothing...Not that it mattered.
What did, however, was below. There was Este, swarmed with a throng of bodies. Men and women, seeking one thing or the other. Each hurled questions, probing for some revelation of her works. Many mentioned the anti-field in their questions. All in all....Boring
So he took in the wholeness of the room.
Although round, the space had sharp edges, layered, recessed stone forms protruding from them. Below, the gallery was a slanted pillar that fused into the ground. The sky, as it was, had a center square outcrop, light spilling out from the sides. Colors ranging from black, white, and red lined the sharp rock edges.
A beautiful thing.
Moreover, the lighting projected a dreamy ambiance towards the center of the chamber...Where the dance was to happen. Where Este was conversing with a number of persons.
He knew little of who they were...Or why they mattered. Perhaps they didn't, and her actions were but the fulfillment of courtesy.
Unknowable in the end.
He imbibed the liquid, leaving the glass suspended in the air. Floating. A moment and it drifts out, accompanied by other such glasses--casted things. So much in this world was cast, very few, he noted, were...a trueness.
This raised a question: If all things are inherently symbols, wouldn't the very nature of reality be a casted thing? Thus, all matter was cast
!A wry smile curled up his face, a figure santeuring past him from the side. A man. Bright-haired as they all were. Very few had any at all strands of white. Such contained beings. On the other hand, the man turned, facing outwards towards the Fence.
Faceless!
Still unnerving.
No features, eyes, nose, or lips. Nothing. Just the pale grey mask of a visage, dressed in an elegant coat, split in the middle. Whoever he was, there was an identifier.
Merrin was hardly startled by this. Too familiar at this point. As expected. What they were...are the forgotten. A coined term. Persons who remained vague within the collective memories of Orvane or Enavro. Despite the heightened status of caster ocular prowess, an array of data can never truly be archived.
Forgotten...No, not that...More like never inputted. Such people, within the dream, were faceless. Featureless. Nothing but pictorial additions within the background of the immediate reality.
A particular Attendant had been the first experience. Horrifying. But not now...Never now. Occasionally, however, Merrin did experience a mildness of terror in them.
Perhaps it was the almost human nature of them...The Wrongness that battled with the internal awareness. He sighed, head resting on his balled fist, eyes locked on the spectacle below.
He waited...
As Este had said, the Highlords were to come, and Merrin was eager to learn. Whoever these people were, their knowledge was expert enough to warrant the in-depth ponderings.